I awoke one morning to find my mouth stitched shut with glossy pink thread, my tongue turned to ivory, and my teeth all gone. As speaking became something of a chore after that, I've since taken to writing.

Morose, slightly sane and cynical with an unabashed love for satires, Slytherins, vice, morbid romances and anguish of both the physical and mental sort. Expect such things in my fictional works.

5 January 2003: A new story, Now She Will Descend revolving around dear Helga of Hufelpuff. Tourniquet is coming along, slowly but surely. It will be finished, eventually. One must have Patience; Patience and Fringe.